When we two young people got into a dispute, we gradually drew nearer to
one another. Our remarks contradicted each other, but an understanding
came about between our eyes. One day, as I was about to leave, she
called me back from the staircase, and, very timidly, offered me an
orange. The next time she blushed slightly when I came in. She
frequently sent me cards of admission to the Athenee, a recently started
institution, in which lectures were given by good speakers. She began to
look pleased at my coming and to express regret at the thought of my
departure.
On New Year's day, as a duty gift, I had sent her a bouquet of white
flowers, and the next day she had tears in her eyes as she thanked me:
"I ask you to believe that I highly appreciate your attention." From
that time forth she spoke more and more often of how empty it would be
for her when I was gone. I was not in love with her, but was too young
for her feelings, so unreservedly expressed, to leave me unaffected, and
likewise young enough to imagine that she expected me before long to ask
for her hand. So I soon informed her that I did not feel so warmly
towards her as she did towards me, and that I was not thinking of
binding myself for the present.
"Do you think me so poor an observer?" she replied, amazed.
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